


Cannibals

by The_Onyx_Moon



Series: From the Outside [11]
Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Temperature Play, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-05 04:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19041541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Onyx_Moon/pseuds/The_Onyx_Moon
Summary: Two brothers.  Two men.  Two Gods who could bring all worlds and all powers to their knees.  And there they are, laid prone and wanting in your bed.





	Cannibals

Cool, smooth skin slides against your own.  Long, thin fingers pinching at your clit and coaxing forth a whimper from your throat.

A feral smirk, one that makes your insides flutter, graces a sharp, handsome face.  Behind him, his brother licks his lips and all but bears his teeth.  He loves when you sing for him like this - a garbled melody of pleasure at his fingertips.

The Odinsons knew exactly what to do to tear you to pieces and though it torture, it was sweet, sweet torture and you would never turn them away when they appeared at your door unbidden.

Their touch drives you insane, their voices whispering intoxicating filth when your body takes their cocks so greedily.

Like you were  _made_ for them.

You muse that they were made for your.  Their clashing bodies coiling yours tight until you’re ready to explode.  Thor with his golden heat, thick fingers and thick shaft stretching you so perfectly it burns.  Loki cold and soft with angles and rhythms that do more than his magic ever could - though he brings it to the bedroom enough.

Hot and cold surrounding you - chest pressed to Thor’s front, Loki’s one with your back as they move in tandem inside you.

When they aren’t there, you dream of them.

When they are there, you swallow them in whatever way you can.  With your mouth, your greedy fingers, your hungry cunt.

Tonight, they’d shown up minutes after you drained your bath water - washroom mirror fogged to the point that you aren’t sure if you’d been seeing things when shadows moved across the glass.  Upon turning around, you’d damn near jumped out of your skin at the sight of them.

Fear and arousal instantly choking you and you can’t find the words to say.  But then you don’t have to.  Not when you drop to your knees that way and run slick palms up naked, thick thighs.

They are built so perfectly.  Literal Gods, carved from marble and gold.  Flawless specimens made for the pleasure of women - and even some men.  They’d had many over their centuries-long lives.   But you were the first they shared.  The first they loved enough to put their differences aside for your sake.

You made it more than worth their while, and if he ever came to Earth, you would rub it in Odin’s face that your mortal pussy could do what his All-Father might could not.

You loved them each separately.

You loved them both so much it made your chest ache.

You say as much, and they drag wet lips across your breast, promising to kiss it better.

You shiver and laugh at their literal interpretation of your words.

Though you are not complaining, not when Loki’s wicked tongue is swirling around your nipple, his arctic digits sliding past your lips.  A gasp that turns cry when he crooks said digits, dragging slowly across your satin soft inner walls.

Your hands are awkward, hungry - bumbling for purchase when your golden prince pushes you further into the bed.  His brother’s work goes undisturbed, his own lips catching the side of your mouth - caught open on a sob, a plea for  _more, Loki, **more**!_

Then your fingers are brushing against Thor’s cock, fisting as best you can as your eyes are screwed shut in pleasure.  A steady pressure builds in your belly, your fingers clenching and pumping in time as best you can.  His grunts agaisnt the nape of your neck, puffed air tickling your skin as bliss tickles at his own spine.

Loki’s barbed, silver tongue pulls away from your skin - calling you _pet_  and biding you spill all over his awaiting fingers.  He’s purring as you cum, pulling his fingers from you sooner than you’d wished.

He flexes those talented fingers, enrapt with the way your slick stretches between his fingers - glistening his pale skin in the low light.  Then he’s smiling at you -  _smiling_ , not smirking - and moaning like a broken man as he uses your slick to lube up the sudden pumps of his cock before he’s pushing into your tight channel.

You feel magnificent - he tells you - squeeze him so perfectly.  Can’t wait til his brother takes your ass and makes your already impossibly tight pussy even tighter.

Your walls flutter at that, Thor lining himself up as you shudder.  The fat head smooths over the tight pucker of your hole and you’re begging him, stretching yourself open in offering and leaning into Loki’s smooth chest.

After what feels like an eternity of fingers and tongue, his cock  _finally_ slides home, his strong fingers sneaking around your hips.  Calloused pads trip over your clit, pulling you open for his brother’s cock as the two move in tandem.

Electricity crackled through Thor’s body as you squeeze him - the extra jolt causing you to dig fingers even deeper in Loki’s sharp shoulderblades.  A shocked thrust of his hips, his own magic humming against your skin and you are rendered a useless puddle in their laps.

Begging for more and less all at once.

Too much but not enough.

_More, more, don’t stop, don’t - oh God, no more!_

They don’t listen, of course they don’t, Thor’s fingers notching themselves right below the edges of your jaw and pushing down.  Loki’s pinching at your nipples and clit (all three possible due to a little extra magic) and fuck, you’re imploding.

A jittery mess in their laps as your orgasm washes over you, your hips bucking and rolling with a mind of their own as they chase your orgasm but so desperately try to outrun the overstimulation.

It isn’t over then.  

Not when they’re both still so hard inside of you.

Painfully steel like, pumping and rutting in desperate chase of the feeling of filling your holes to the brim with their spend.  They fill you up so well, every drop staying seated inside of you until they’ve softened enough to pull out.

You’re a dripping mess after that, a mixture of all three of your orgasms awash your thighs and with a wave of Loki’s hand, you’re cleaned.

You snort.

Show off.

Then, the men who were so commanding - so animalistic - just mere moments before are crawling into bed with you, tucking the sheets tightly around yourselves as they cradle you between their bodies.

Like a puzzle, the three of you fit together so perfectly - skin against skin - and you hum in contentment.  To see the way you all come together - three, broken pieces to make one, singular whole.


End file.
